Lord of the Rings: Aragorn/Arwen
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Pairing: Aragorn/Arwen
Theme set: Gamma
Rating: PG
Note: It's in fic form, theme words are bolded, maybe not be according to order. And it's somewhat corny. Ugh.
It was the ring, that simple circle of pure gold that she disliked so much. She remembered the day he set out with them, proclaiming himself not a hero, but she knew - in her heart - he was. The memories of them she treasured well, fearing never to see him again.
Somehow, she wished he was something that could easily be packed in a box, thus they will never be parted, though of course, that would be impossible. Some days, she almost imagined herself running away from Rivendell on Asfaloth, joining the nine in their quest. She could not bear to part with him: he had come into her life like a hurricane, and it had never been the same again from then.
It was as though he was her wings, without him, she was crippled, nothing. With him gone, the world had lost its splendour, being nothing but a cold, harsh land. When she had first met him, it seemed that his very existence brightened her monochrome world in hues of red, yellow, blue etc.
The next time she met him, it was during the festivities, when the elven drinks had made all light headed. She remembered walking in the gardens with him, and it was long past midnight when she got back to her room, slightly giddy -though it was definitely not from the wine.
Years later in Lorien, she came to accept him: yes there was temptation of the forbidden, but there was a love between them that she believed in, and so did he. She knew Ada viewed their love as a hindrance to the future, as unneeded, as forbidden: after all, there were only two such unions so far in the world, and the world was in no special hurry for another relationship between Atani and Eldar.
She missed the days when in the Hall of Fire, he would hum in accordance to the enchanting rhythm the music produced, sometimes stopping to grin at her. There were times when she could feel the heat of his hands through the thin silk of her gown, when alone, and would thus lean against his sturdy self, feeling comforted and safe.
That fateful day in Lorien, under the cover of the trees, she confessed her love for him, and then again, later on Cerin Amroth they made their vow.
"I cleave to thee Dunadan," she had whispered: a promise that would always hold true.
Sometimes, she wondered whether they were but a dream, and if -in sooth -it were one, she would never want to be woken from it.
The lives of Men are short, and easily extinguished, like a candle flame flickering in a gale, Elrond had told her once, hoping to dissuade her. She had fervently argued her case: he had talent with a blade, but it would take more than that to woo an elf -it would need courage, and love.
The silence that had engulfed the whole of Imladris on deafening in its dominion: vigils had been held, and blessings bestowed. The journey to Mordor would not be an easy one.
Everyone knew, it would take the Companions through fire and ice, through hardship and pain. All nine will be tested, strength was not as highly priced in this matter as loyalty and friendship, though the ring would do everything to break them.
She had tried to keep her face an impassive mask when they left, though inside she was breaking, trying to restrain herself from running to him, begging him not to go, not to leave her alone. She had felt as though his leaving had sapped all the warmth from the world, and in her veins her blood froze as ice, cold and brittle.
She had lived for more than two millenia on middle-earth, yet never did she know that she would fall for one from the race of Men. One from the line of forgotten kings, heir to a throne unclaimed, a sword broken.
Nothing mattered though, he had the ability to make her dance on air when he was around, and make her forget all that troubled her, she was able to smile again. They were connected on all levels, body and soul, heart and mind.
What they had -have, she corrected herself mentally, he was still alive -was sacred.
Over the years, many farewells had been uttered between them, but the last had been the toughest: she knew not whether he would return thither. This parting, to her, it seemed as though the whole world was trying to keep them apart, to break what they had.
That final farewell was anything but formal, it was a one as shared by lovers in uncertainty. She remembered the fever that nearly overcame her when she sensed that he was out of Imladris, and her sorrow.
He was the one of the few who could make her laugh, something she experienced so little after her mother left the shores of Middle-Earth. She remembered the lies she had told her father, always mentioning that she was busy with her sewing whenever she appeared late at meals, though he always had his 'training' sessions as an excuse, when the both of them were in fact just being with the other.
One day, he had lowered his voice to almost a whisper and spoke softly in her ear words she never thought she would ever hear. "I love you forever." Both knew they would never have that eternity, but she knew, through the feelings that overwhelmed her then, that they will always have enough time.
She remembered the day she waited for his arrival home after meeting the hobbits. Her father and his advisors were deep in council, talking for hours straight... to an extent that it unnerved her. The fear spurred her in search for them. It had been a long and tiring four days, and at one point it made her laugh (perhaps in stress) - she was searching for hope, and that hope, it seemed far away. For four days, it seemed as though her world was suffering from a permanent eclipse, and she wasn't sure when the light would come though.
The gravity of the situation only fully hit her on the fifth day. Being pursued, she tried taking the highway, the quickest route to Rivendell, and it only just, just, saved the Ringbearer's life.
Now, her estel was heading into the unknown, and even she, who had the measure of the foresight of elves, knew not whether he would pass out of the darkness unscathed.
She had given him the key to the lock that was her heart - she had promised herself to him, and she did not know what to do should he not return. These days, it seemed harder to continue breathing, continue living, as he was not around.
END.
Pairing: Aragorn/Arwen
Theme set: Gamma
Rating: PG
Note: It's in fic form, theme words are bolded, maybe not be according to order. And it's somewhat corny. Ugh.
It was the ring, that simple circle of pure gold that she disliked so much. She remembered the day he set out with them, proclaiming himself not a hero, but she knew - in her heart - he was. The memories of them she treasured well, fearing never to see him again.
Somehow, she wished he was something that could easily be packed in a box, thus they will never be parted, though of course, that would be impossible. Some days, she almost imagined herself running away from Rivendell on Asfaloth, joining the nine in their quest. She could not bear to part with him: he had come into her life like a hurricane, and it had never been the same again from then.
It was as though he was her wings, without him, she was crippled, nothing. With him gone, the world had lost its splendour, being nothing but a cold, harsh land. When she had first met him, it seemed that his very existence brightened her monochrome world in hues of red, yellow, blue etc.
The next time she met him, it was during the festivities, when the elven drinks had made all light headed. She remembered walking in the gardens with him, and it was long past midnight when she got back to her room, slightly giddy -though it was definitely not from the wine.
Years later in Lorien, she came to accept him: yes there was temptation of the forbidden, but there was a love between them that she believed in, and so did he. She knew Ada viewed their love as a hindrance to the future, as unneeded, as forbidden: after all, there were only two such unions so far in the world, and the world was in no special hurry for another relationship between Atani and Eldar.
She missed the days when in the Hall of Fire, he would hum in accordance to the enchanting rhythm the music produced, sometimes stopping to grin at her. There were times when she could feel the heat of his hands through the thin silk of her gown, when alone, and would thus lean against his sturdy self, feeling comforted and safe.
That fateful day in Lorien, under the cover of the trees, she confessed her love for him, and then again, later on Cerin Amroth they made their vow.
"I cleave to thee Dunadan," she had whispered: a promise that would always hold true.
Sometimes, she wondered whether they were but a dream, and if -in sooth -it were one, she would never want to be woken from it.
The lives of Men are short, and easily extinguished, like a candle flame flickering in a gale, Elrond had told her once, hoping to dissuade her. She had fervently argued her case: he had talent with a blade, but it would take more than that to woo an elf -it would need courage, and love.
The silence that had engulfed the whole of Imladris on deafening in its dominion: vigils had been held, and blessings bestowed. The journey to Mordor would not be an easy one.
Everyone knew, it would take the Companions through fire and ice, through hardship and pain. All nine will be tested, strength was not as highly priced in this matter as loyalty and friendship, though the ring would do everything to break them.
She had tried to keep her face an impassive mask when they left, though inside she was breaking, trying to restrain herself from running to him, begging him not to go, not to leave her alone. She had felt as though his leaving had sapped all the warmth from the world, and in her veins her blood froze as ice, cold and brittle.
She had lived for more than two millenia on middle-earth, yet never did she know that she would fall for one from the race of Men. One from the line of forgotten kings, heir to a throne unclaimed, a sword broken.
Nothing mattered though, he had the ability to make her dance on air when he was around, and make her forget all that troubled her, she was able to smile again. They were connected on all levels, body and soul, heart and mind.
What they had -have, she corrected herself mentally, he was still alive -was sacred.
Over the years, many farewells had been uttered between them, but the last had been the toughest: she knew not whether he would return thither. This parting, to her, it seemed as though the whole world was trying to keep them apart, to break what they had.
That final farewell was anything but formal, it was a one as shared by lovers in uncertainty. She remembered the fever that nearly overcame her when she sensed that he was out of Imladris, and her sorrow.
He was the one of the few who could make her laugh, something she experienced so little after her mother left the shores of Middle-Earth. She remembered the lies she had told her father, always mentioning that she was busy with her sewing whenever she appeared late at meals, though he always had his 'training' sessions as an excuse, when the both of them were in fact just being with the other.
One day, he had lowered his voice to almost a whisper and spoke softly in her ear words she never thought she would ever hear. "I love you forever." Both knew they would never have that eternity, but she knew, through the feelings that overwhelmed her then, that they will always have enough time.
She remembered the day she waited for his arrival home after meeting the hobbits. Her father and his advisors were deep in council, talking for hours straight... to an extent that it unnerved her. The fear spurred her in search for them. It had been a long and tiring four days, and at one point it made her laugh (perhaps in stress) - she was searching for hope, and that hope, it seemed far away. For four days, it seemed as though her world was suffering from a permanent eclipse, and she wasn't sure when the light would come though.
The gravity of the situation only fully hit her on the fifth day. Being pursued, she tried taking the highway, the quickest route to Rivendell, and it only just, just, saved the Ringbearer's life.
Now, her estel was heading into the unknown, and even she, who had the measure of the foresight of elves, knew not whether he would pass out of the darkness unscathed.
She had given him the key to the lock that was her heart - she had promised herself to him, and she did not know what to do should he not return. These days, it seemed harder to continue breathing, continue living, as he was not around.
END.